


The One at the Flower Shop

by mugglegirl



Series: Five times Ian Asks Mickey out, One Time He Doesn't [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, M/M, guess who says it, homophobic slur, just one, u guessed right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 17:22:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2701091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mugglegirl/pseuds/mugglegirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>flower shop/tattoo parlor au but probably not what you're expecting</p><p>If anyone asks, Mickey is a pimp. He runs a pimping business. A whorehouse, if you will. He does pimp-y things. With pimp-related people. Pimping is his primary source of income.<br/>Mandy says that’s lying, but he chooses to call it Omission of Unimportant Details.</p><p>Mickey is the most badass florist out there, okay?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One at the Flower Shop

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2 of the 5 times/1 time verse & i encourage reading part 1 first, but this can be read on it's own. All you need to know is they met on the train once and Ian is a flirt.
> 
> Unbeta'd & mostly written after 3 am so apologies from now.

So maybe Mickey takes the late bus again the next day, but it has absolutely nothing to do with any redheaded boys and everything to do with the fact that he missed the first bus.

Okay, so maybe he's late because he spent a little extra time in bed that morning jacking off to very distinct fantasies, but that’s not the point.

The point is that he is definitely not disappointed when he doesn’t see anyone he knows on the train. Definitely not.

 

* * *

 

If anyone asks, Mickey is a pimp. He runs a pimping business. A whorehouse, if you will. He does pimp-y things. With pimp-related people. Pimping is his primary source of income.

Mandy says that’s lying, but he chooses to call it Omission of Unimportant Details.

He has another job. He would just much rather keep that on the down low. His probation officer helped him find it after juvie, which meant he really only had to keep working there for the six months of his probation, but it is a decent paying job and it helps deal with all the extra cash he’s had to spend on Svetlana and Yev.

He’s a florist.

Which can be a pretty badass job. Mickey is the most badass florist out there, okay?

Fucking bees.

 

* * *

 

His shift at the Blooming Bouquet starts at eight in the morning and usually finishes around three, which bodes well considering that’s about the time the desperate men of the Southside start making their way to the Alibi for the Russian girls.

It’s a fairly uneventful job, working as a florist. Hardly anyone actually comes in anymore, so he spends the majority of his time answering the phone for orders. Which is something his boss is grateful for considering his uncanny ability to scare off unsuspecting shoppers with his eyebrows.

The most interesting part of his job is the tattoo shop, Tatts & Roses, next door. Three years working at the flower shop has resulted in a weird yet not unappreciated friendship with the tattoo artists that work there.

Maya is one of the only reasons he doesn’t quit the job when he finishes his probation. She buys him into staying with the promise of a tattoo on the house if he doesn’t leave her to suffer with her "hipster coworkers." He hasn’t gotten any tattoos done since his knuckles, but he takes her up on the deal anyway. She’s one of the only people in his life he can stand to be around. She’s a no-bullshit kind of person and he respects that.

Mickey is at the desk organizing logs in a futile attempt to stay awake when Maya comes barging through the front door. He nods at her in greeting and she salutes him jokingly. Her combat boots clunk loudly against the tile floor, but she is blissfully unaware of rowdiness.

“’Sup fucker?” she asks as she approaches the counter, slamming her hands down on the desk and grinning widely.

Mickey glances back into the storeroom. His coworker Tyler is usually in the back making the bouquets. They don’t allow Mickey to make them anymore, but that’s another story entirely.

“Keep it down will ya? You always get me in trouble.” he tells her, turning back to his work.

Maya smirks, twirls a strand of her dark curly hair between her fingers, “You didn’t answer my question.”

Mickey sighs, “What does it look like I’m doing, Maya?”

“Being an annoying fuck? But that’s normal," she muses, "anything new?” 

“Nothing new.”

“What about the _L hottie_?” she teases.

Mickey looks up at her sharply, fixes what he hopes is a deathly glare.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Mickey had made the mistake of not instantly scrubbing the number off his arm on that eventful day and when he got to the shop Maya had seen it on her daily Bother-Mickey break. She asked him twelve times before he gave her a half-assed lie about a girl on the train named Lian ( _“Who the fuck spells it like that?” “The fuck should I know?” “Sounds like a hipster. But a_ ho _t hipster,”)_ and how she broke his phone. Mickey had made the assumption that Maya would stop bothering him about it after that, but she is not so easily deterred. It’s been three weeks since the incident and she still wouldn’t let it go.

“Come on, Mick. It’s me. You can tell me about the _hot, steamy sex_ you’re having with her,” she says it like it’s scandalous; knows that despite her openness about sex, Mickey isn’t like that. She just likes aggravating him.

“Look, what do I have to do to convince you I didn’t try getting in contact with her?” he asks, his tone angry as he gives up on the logs all together and closes the book to divert his attention to her.

“Would you just fucking drop it?” he tells her, exasperated.

Maya’s smile dissipates.

“I don’t get you,” she says, standing up straight. a frown forming on her face.

There is a moment of tense silence then she sighs and asks, “Can you take your break now? I need a cigarette.” 

“You mean you need to steal a cigarette from me,” he informs, tries to sound annoyed, but it doesn’t bother him. Maya buys him lunch on the day’s she gets long breaks, so he owes her.

Maya smiles brightly at him as he makes his way to the backroom to tell Tyler he’s going to go on his break.

* * *

 

She doesn’t bring it up again until the end of their break, which is really pretty record-breaking for her.

“I don’t get it, didn’t you say that Svetlana is just with you for Yev?”

Mickey takes a deep drag from his cigarette and nods slightly, “What are you trying to say?”

“She won’t care if you date somebody else. What’s stopping you?” she asks then steps forward to steal the cigarette from Mickey.

“I’ve known you for three years and you’ve never once gone on a date,” she continues, “if I didn’t know better I’d say you’re asexual. But I bet the baby begs to differ.”

“Yev’s hardly a baby anymore,” he deflects, darts forward and snatches the cigarette back when she looks down, “he’s turning into a fat fuck, if you ask me.”

Maya flashes him another smile, “Like father, like son, eh?”

Mickey frowns at her as he takes one last drag, holds his breath as he steps closer to her and exhales in her face. Maya let’s out a loud laugh.

“Fuck you,” he says, hates that she’s so difficult to offend, hates even more that he appreciates it anyway.

“Besides,” he continues, “I aint never seen you with a guy neither.”

“I’m happy without any guys, thanks,” she says, grinning.

“Look, all I’m trying to tell you is that you deserve to be happy with someone.” She tells him, rocks back and forth on the heels of her boots and stuffs her hands into the pockets of her cardigan, shivers taking over her body.

Mickey nods at her, “All _I’m_ saying is that I’m fine on my own.”

He grabs her by the shoulders, a feat considering she towers over him, and pushes her towards their shops, “I gotta get back to work and you do to, let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

Another week passes without event. Maya seems to have finally dropped the Lian Situation, as Mickey has come to call it in his head. His belief is that he would have forgotten about the whole debacle much quicker if Maya hadn’t kept bringing it up.

It’s a Tuesday when he stumbles into Tatts and Roses with two cigarettes and a mischievous smile only to find Maya examining a very shirtless Ian Gallagher.

He stops in his tracks several feet away from them, the hand holding the cigarettes drops along with his smile. There is a tense moment as he makes the decision of his life while Ian and Maya chat quietly between each other.

His decision is made for him when Maya looks up.

“Oh, hey Mick,” she says casually, like the world doesn’t hate him. Ian follows her gaze; the smile previously splayed across his face vanishes as his eyes land on him.

“he-ey…” Mickey answers, eyes wide.

“Wanna stick around?” she asks, “I just need like five more minutes and we can go on our break.”

Mickey shakes his head weakly, can’t help but fleetingly glance back at Ian every few seconds as he stammers out his reply. Ian doesn’t look away at all.

“Um, no, I, uh, wanted to tell you, uh, can’t- can’t go on break right now. Backed up with uh, work. On logs. And shit.”

Maya frowns at him, head tiled to the side, “Okay?” she answers, “just stop by when you're free and we’ll go on our break then.”

Mickey nods meekly. He’s suddenly uncomfortably aware of how ridiculous he must look in his green and pink Blooming Bouquet apron. He can feel his cheeks betraying him as they fill with color.

“Right. Okay.”

 

* * *

 

Hardly thirty minutes pass before the bell at the shop entrance jingles, signaling the arrival of the first customer of the day.

Mickey sighs, straightens up from where he had been sitting with his head in his hands for the past twenty minutes. He can’t quite see the customer from his position in the store.

There is a moment of silence as the customer shuffles around and then, “So, a florist. Didn’t expect that.”

Mickey groans internally.

“It’s my day job,” he answers.

“An impressive day job indeed,” Ian says as he finally comes into Mickey’s view. He’s grinning, that bastard.

Mickey shrugs in an attempt to look unbothered, “Why are you here anyway?”

“I got my tattoos done at Roses last year,” Ian tells him as he saunters towards the desk Mickey is behind, “I just came back to get some touch ups done.”

“Not there, dumbass,” Mickey says, “I mean here. In a flower shop.”

Ian’s eyes narrow at that. He’s at the counter now; presses his palms flat against the cool glass. Everything about him is intimidating.

“You never called me about the phone,” he says instead of answering.

“Tyler fixed it for free,” Mickey mumbles.

If it were possible, Ian’s eyes grow narrower at that. He nods his head slightly.

Mickey squirms, “Were you going to buy anything or just stand around and stare all day?”

At that, Ian’s grin returns, “Sure, why not.”

Mickey rolls his eyes, “Well, what do you want?”

“I don’t know; you’re the expert.”

“I am not the- okay give me some context. The fuck do you want flowers for?”

“Whoa, don’t think _Tyler_ would appreciate your language very much.”

“Tyler can fuck himself.”

“Okay… A boy. I need flowers for a boy.”

Mickey is absolutely unaffected by that.

“That literally does not narrow it down at all,” Mickey grumbles.

Ian stares at him for a moment, disbelief coloring his face. Mickey stares back in confusion.

“You know what, never mind. It’s not worth it.”

“Right…”

“Right. I’m going to get some coffee. Wanna take that break now and come with?”

Mickey frowns at that, looks down at his hands. Is Ian asking him out? What the fuck does he think he’s doing? And how does Mickey answer that? How does he say yes without actually saying yes? What-

“Maya is coming too, Mick.”

Mickey looks up, eyebrows rising, “You talked to Maya? What- uh, what did you tell her?”

“Nothing…” Ian shakes his head, confusion evident, “what is there to tell her?”

“The fuck should I know? How do you know her anyway?”

“I’ve known Maya for years…” Ian says, amusement clear as he taps his fingers on the glass, “she gave me my first tattoo with a needle and some Indian ink,”

Mickey can’t help but look slightly distraught at this information. He doesn’t know why, but he suddenly feels weirdly protective of Maya. Definitely a little jealous, but that’s not the point.  

“Well?” Ian asks, fingers finally stilling.

“Yeah alright, I’ll come with you fuckers for coffee.”

* * *

 

Over lattes, Mickey discovers that a) “lattes are disgusting, who the fuck invented them?” b) Ian and Maya went to Chicago CC together (until Maya dropped out in her second year) and c) Ian Gallagher is a fucking catch.

Ian is loud and exuberant in all the ways Mickey isn’t. He talks non-stop, but people listen. He flirts with the barista, tells her that her hair is “an excellent shade of turquoise” and undoubtedly means it. He makes friends with everyone within a ten-foot radius of him. Laughs like it’s nobodies business; smiles broadly at the jokes Maya tells him that Mickey does not understand.

Mickey feels like an outsider desperate to get in. Feels like he can’t breath when Ian looks at him but longs for his fleeting glances anyway. Hates that he can’t control his gravitational pull towards the redhead. _Especially_ hates that Ian seems to be completely unaffected by the whole situation.

Then, when the coffee is done and their thirty-minute break is over, Mickey feels like several hours have past. He is exhausted; so unprepared to socialize, so unused to being surrounded by such positive energy. 

They walk back to the shops together, Ian explaining all his adventures with Maya in college. Mickey wishes he were there.

At one point, he throws an arm around them both, like they’ve been friends forever. It’s too personal- Mickey pulls away, but Ian doesn’t react.

As they approach the tattoo shop, Maya tells Ian to stop by again soon or “for fucks sake, call me,” and Ian promises he will. She waves them goodbye over her shoulder as she walks back into the shop and Ian turns to face Mickey, smiling cheekily.

“Right, so I gotta get back,” Mickey says, points weakly behind him in the general direction of the Blooming Bouquet.

Ian nods, “Coffee was fun. We should go again sometime.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“You still got my number?”

“Nah man, just talk to Maya and maybe I’ll come next time you guys get your hipster coffee.”

* * *

                                                                             

The next day, Maya saunters into the Blooming Bouquet with a wicked smile and Mickey knows he’ll live to regret whatever is about to go down.

“Yo…” he says, frown already settling on his face.

“Yo,” she answers, grin only widening at the sight of his apparent discomfort.

“So I was having a very interesting conversation with Ian yesterday…” she starts as she reaches the counter; puts her face in her hands and drops her elbows onto the table.

“Good for you, Maya,” he says, turns back to the work on his table and hopes his face doesn’t give anything away.

She’s definitely not buying this.

“Told me he met you a few weeks ago,” Mickey groans, but Maya plows on, “said something about breaking your phone, but that’s not what really caught my attention.”

“What caught my attention,” she continues, “is the heart eyes you two were sending each other over the lattes.”

Mickey balks. He looks up sharply, frowning.

“Are you calling me a fuckin faggot?” he asks, eyebrows raised.

“Whoa,” she says, standing up straight, “I don’t call _anyone_ that.”

“Good,” he tells her, tries to sound final, “cause I aint.”

Maya raises an eyebrow in disbelief.

“Fuckin’ disgusting,” he adds, shaking his head. That only results in her eyebrows traveling farther up her forehead.

She takes a step back and shrugs her shoulders, “I guess I just thought…”

“Yeah,” he scoffs, tries to smile, but it feels like a grimace, “you thought wrong.”

Mickey can’t get himself to look her in the eyes so he turns back to the papers in front of him; stares aimlessly at them.

When she doesn’t answer, he glances up. She looks annoyed.

“What?” he says; bites his lip when it comes out menacing.

“You don’t have to lie to me,” she tells him, her voice quiet.

Mickey groans, throws his hands up, “I ain’t telling no fuckin’ lie.”

“And _I_ ain’t stupid,” She counters.

“You’re something…”

Maya laughs, flips him off, “Whatever, wonder boy. It’s 2014, don’t nobody care if you like dick.”

* * *

 

On Friday, Tyler doesn’t show up to work. Mickey only works until 1 in the afternoon on Fridays anyway, but decides to close up early when nobody shows up within the first three hours. He’s sitting cross-legged on the floor behind the counter, putting away the sample ribbons he had been organizing (playing with, same thing) when the door jingles.

“We’re closing,” he calls out.

“Oh, good.”

Mickey drops the ribbon roll. He watches as it rolls under the counter and presumably out into the middle of the store. For a moment, he debates his choices- wonders if Ian won’t notice him if he stays still enough- then he is being shadowed by a large figure. He looks up in defeat, grimacing. Ian is bent over the counter, looking down at him in amusement.

“What are you doing here?” Mickey asks.

Ian smiles, “Knew you wouldn’t call me so I thought I’d stop by,” he says.

Mickey dumps the rest of the ribbons on the floor and stands up, if just to make Ian get off the retched counter. It definitely doesn’t put enough distance between them.

“Stop by for what?”

“Well, I’m intrigued by your profession,” Ian mocks, grin wide and gesturing at the store, “I was hoping you could teach me a little about your job.”

Mickey scoffs, “Seriously? You came all the way here to make fun of my job.”

“Why not? I’m interested in you. And your job.”

Mickey face colors instantly, he looks down, shuffles awkwardly, “Well, I’m working right now.”

“You said you were closing.”

“Fuckin- okay, let me finish putting this stuff away and we’ll talk, alright?”

Ian nods enthusiastically and Mickey is reminded of Yev when he’s promised dessert if he behaves.

“Hand me that ribbon roll, will ya?”

 

* * *

 

Ten minutes later finds him in the back room with Ian, examining the long table of flower pots and explaining which flowers look better with what ribbon colors and why orchids are actually nicer for prom corsages than roses.

“For some reason the dumb high schoolers come in with the preconceived idea that only roses are acceptable and they all look like fuckin’ idiots. And that’s why I hate working here in May.”

Ian laughs loudly, head thrown back, “Wish I could work in a place like this. Working in an office is just _so dull_.”

“Never thought I’d hear a Gallagher utter the words ‘working in an office,’” Mickey muses.

Ian doesn’t answer right away and Mickey can feel his gaze on him, so he does the mature thing and determinedly looks away- begins to put the flowers back into their places.

Ian is quiet as Mickey works, scrambling around, aimlessly moving pots and baskets in an attempt to keep himself busy. He’s not sure he understands what’s happening; why Ian is so eager and willing to just watch him. He feel’s like he’s being studied, likes that Ian is so interested, doesn’t like that he likes it. It takes a couple minutes, but Mickey can’t help but allow himself to relax as he shuffles around Ian. He knows he’s entering dangerous territory- but he doesn’t care. He can’t control the urge to want what Maya claims he deserves.

 _fuck._ He puts the last pot down. There’s nothing left for him to aimlessly relocate.

“Look,” Mickey finally says, still determinedly looking down, “I’m not interested in a- whatever, relationship. So just- don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Ian asks, leaning against the table.

“Just…” Mickey sighs in frustration, finally looks up in defeat. Ian expression is unreadable, but there’s still a small smile playing at his lips.

“Okay,” Ian says, shrugs lightly. There is a moment of silence as Mickey glares and Ian’s face is precariously blank, and then Ian is pushing off the table and taking steps towards Mickey like it’s a challenge. And then he’s there, leaning forward, closer, closer, and Mickey knows he can just step aside right now, say _fuck no_ like his brain is screaming at him to do, but he doesn’t. He lets Ian into his space, lets him lean forward- hands circle his face, forehead press against his. For a second, their breaths intermingle and then Ian is surging downward, pressing his lips against Mickey’s and Mickey lets him do that too, lets Ian’s left hand cup the back of his neck, lets his right hand sink low, wrap around his waste. And Ian is sliding his tongue against Mickey’s lips, urging him to open, and Mickey- dear god, Mickey can’t _not_ let out a tiny moan of delight and maybe that’s annoyance he’s feeling too, because now that he knows, knows what it feels like to be kissed by Ian Gallagher, he’ll never stop kissing back.

Ian isn’t exactly _gentle_. He plants his feet between mickey’s legs, forces him to spread them, pushes him back until his butt hits the counter. Mickey doesn’t struggle though, too busy exploring Ian’s mouth, biting, tugging at his lips, too busy trying to keep his balance while he stands on his tippy toes. Then, as if suddenly noticing the somewhat problematic height difference, Ian’s hands sink lower, under Mickey’s ass, take grip, and then he’s being lifted over the edge of counter, shoved down ungracefully. Another moan slips pasts Mickey's lips, his own hands roaming, searching for a grasp- finally settle on Ian’s ass- fuck, that shouldn’t feel as nice as it does. Ian's tongue grazes his teeth and Mickey can't help but suck, it's too much-

“ _Fuck,_ ” Ian groans, pulling apart gasping for breath. Mickey lean’s back, breathing heavy as he plants his hands behind him to keep himself up. It take’s a surprising amount of energy not to flop down onto his back.

“Fuck,” he agrees.

Ian lets out a huff; sounds like a laugh he can’t quiet catch up to.

“I swear, I was going to take you out to lunch before I tried that.”

**Author's Note:**

> comment if you want more! I need feedback to live guys pls let me live  
> [follow me on tumblr!](http://wallahibro.tumblr.com)
> 
> by the way, I need a beta for this, so if anyone wants to read the chapters before they come out, you can + you have the added bonus of me loving you forever. Just message me on tumblr :)


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